No Touching: It's Not a Suggestion, It's the Law
by MusicalLuna1
Summary: Lassiter and Shawn wander around a creepy old house looking for something and get more than they bargained for. Stargate: SG-1 Crossover.


I requested that windscryer challenge me to rinse my brain out after some writing on another of my stories, and these were her stipulations:

**_I want Shawn and Lassie to bond over a giant spining globe, arabian racehorses, the color lime green, and a hole in the ground._**

Then I asked a question so that I could include a SG reference, and my vagueness and her excitement got you this.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate or Psych. But boy are they awesome.

* * *

"I've gotta piss like an Arabian racehorse," Lassiter grumbled.

"Mmhm…" Shawn mused in return. "And does the fact that it's an Arabian racehorse make the amount of pee greater?"

"Shut up, Spencer. Didn't I tell you if we were going to be stuck together on this stupid little goose chase that you were going to keep your big, fat mouth shut?" he demanded, neck bending just slightly as he peered at the titles of the enormous books on the shelves to their left.

"You did indeed tell me that Lassie. I'm still not quite clear on how my mouth is either big, or fat. My lips are pleasantly plump, to be sure, but _fat?_ Nothing in, on, or around my mouth is fat," Shawn said, and picked up a strange metal object from a nearby shelf. He stared at it suspiciously for a moment and then said, "What is this?"

Lassiter glanced at the object briefly. "A sextant."

"A sex what?"

The other man's eyes narrowed and he snatched the object out of Shawn's hands, putting it back on the shelf. "Stop touching things you idiot."

"Why? It's not like we're in a sci-fi show. Nothing is going to suck me into an alternate dimension, or body-swap with me, or—"

"Seriously. Is it that hard to shut up for five minutes?"

"Uhh…hello? Where am I? …And what the heck happened? I swear I didn't touch anything…" a voice muttered from the corner of the room.

Both Shawn and Lassiter looked up to see a fair-skinned man with brunette hair and a bewildered look behind the glasses perched on his nose peering around the room. Shawn frowned, a hand coming up to point at him. "Dude, where'd you come from?"

The man pushed his glasses up, his head cocking as his gaze turned to Shawn. "Uh—I um, I'm from Earth."

Lassiter snorted. "Great. Another lunatic. Just what I need."

The man's eyes widened, his hand moving to cover his mouth. "Oh," he said, his words muffled behind his hand. "We're—we're _on_ Earth? Shoot," he muttered and began talking to himself again. "That would explain the modern English, but how…?"

Shawn waved his hand to get the man's attention. "What are you doing in here, dude? This place is supposed to be closed down."

His expression turned sheepish. "You know, I'm not actually sure?" After a pause where his eyes lost focus, his lips moving without making any sound, his eyes widened and he said, "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I'm, I'm Daniel."

Lassiter's expression was incredulous. "We don't care who you are, _what are you doing here?_ This building is a crime scene!"

Shawn however took the man's outstretched hand and grinned. "Shawn Spencer. Psychic. Just ignore Detective Crankypants over here."

"Psychic?" Daniel said. "As in…ESP? Are you Nox?"

Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Knocks? I'm going to go with no. But I do a little ESP, a little future-seeing, I'm kind of a jack of all psychic trades."

Lassiter snorted derisively. "Are you done bonding with the stranger yet, Spencer?" Turning to Daniel he said, "We're going to have to take you downtown. You broke into a crime scene, that's a—"

"Wait, what? I didn't break into anything!" Daniel exclaimed, pulling out of Lassiter's grip and retreating backward.

"Oh for—if you didn't _break in_," Lassiter asked peevishly, "How exactly did you get in here then?"

"Well, I…I don't really know," Daniel said defensively. "I was just examining an artifact we brought back from P35-938 and I lifted it to get a better look at a small inscription in the light, and then…I was here!"

"Okay, get back Spencer, we don't know if this guy is dangerous or not," Lassiter said, reaching for his gun.

"Dude, Lassie, he's telling the truth," Shawn protested.

"Yeah, all crazies _are_," Lassiter said. "It's just their version."

"I am _not_ crazy!" Daniel exclaimed.

"Lassie, come on, he's not glowing lime green or anything, and just because you don't believe in—"

"Spencer, don't make me warn you again," Lassiter snapped.

"What year are you from, dude?" Shawn blurted and his brow creased slightly after the outburst.

Daniel blinked and his brow mimicked Shawn's, but he replied, "1999."

Shawn waved an "I told you so" hand at Lassiter.

"Spencer, that doesn't prove anything aside from the fact that this guy is one seriously disturbed person. Will you get out of the way now?"

But Daniel looked bewildered now. "What year is it?"

"2007," Shawn said. Lassiter growled.

"Oh my gosh," Daniel said, "I'm in the future?" He turned suddenly, moving rapidly over to where a giant beige and bronze globe sat in the corner. "Where are we?" he asked, spinning the globe around so that the Americas faced them.

Shawn followed him, interest piqued by the question. "Here," he said, pointing to a spot on Southern California. "Santa Barbara. About a hundred miles from L.A."

"That's _weird_," Daniel said, emphasizing the weirdness with a dramatic wave of his hand. "This doesn't make any sense…"

"That's because you're _crazy_," Lassiter interjected, glaring at Shawn.

"I am not crazy. Will you please stop saying that? I work for the government in a top secret space program."

"Doesn't that mean you shouldn't tell us?" Shawn said.

"Well, technically, but, these are extenuating circumstances, seeing as I seem to have hopped two states and eight years," Daniel said, chewing on his lip as he zoned out again.

"This isn't one of those, 'now I'm going to have to kill you' situations, is it? Because it's going to suck if Lassie gets to say, 'I told you so' in the afterlife," Shawn said.

"This is insane," Lassiter interjected, clearly annoyed.

"Not insane," Daniel said. "Just…" He waved a hand. "Unfathomable?"

"So how exactly did you get here then?" Shawn asked, finding it easier just to go along with the other man.

"I have no idea! It must have been that artifact I was holding, but I'd been fiddling with it for hours, I don't know what I could have possibly done…"

"Spencer touched something right before you popped out of the wormhole in the floor," Lassiter said grudgingly.

Daniel's eyes widened and he turned curiously to Shawn. "Really? What? Where is it?"

Shawn gestured to the shelf. "The sex thing."

"Sextant," Lassiter grit irritably.

Daniel immediately moved over, peering at the object. After a brief moment of silence he said, "This must be it, it has to be. It has the same type of symbol as the one I was trying to look at on the artifact at home. Incredible. But that doesn't make any sense. A sextant is used to measure angles based on longitude and latitude, how on earth would that send me forward in time…?" he wondered.

"Maybe it was the thingy you had," Shawn suggested. "Maybe it only works if you do something to this piece here."

"That's possible…"

"Here, you get in the corner again, and we'll try it again," Shawn said, shooing Daniel back toward the corner.

Daniel did so reluctantly. "What if it doesn't work? What if it just sends me somewhere else?"

"We'll never know if we don't try," Shawn said cheerfully. He picked up the sextant again, turned toward the corner—

And Daniel was gone.

"Hey," Shawn said, pleasantly surprised. "It worked."

"As far as you know," Lassiter said. "Who knows where he wound up? And who cares. Remind me to refuse to go with you anywhere. Ever again."

"Aw, Lassie!" Shawn said as Lassiter stalked out of the room. "What's a search of an old abandoned house without a little hooky spooky? Lassie? Lassie-face!"

He glanced back at the corner of the room just before stepping through the doorway and grinned.

"Godspeed, buddy."


End file.
